BMW HP2 MEGAMOTO
By Gromit
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| Gromit was, like a poorly made martini, both shaken and stirred by his ride on the BMW HP2 Megamoto |
Much as I like modern art, I didn't fancy making the call.
"Hello darling, it's me. I'm bringing home some souvenirs. Oh...some rather interesting carbon fibre wall hangings. And a couple of alloy paperweights..."
I first rode the HP2 Megamoto in April 2008. The bike hardly raised a sweat. On the other hand, I was both shaken and stirred by the experience.
So what's a Megamoto anyway?
The official answer is something like: 'it's the second bike to emerge from BMW's High Performance division, hence the 'HP' moniker'.
A thoroughly unofficial answer is that it's a damn great motardy thing with a worked 1170cc boxer twin and a seat height in the lower stratosphere. You're looking at 113hp and 115Nm of torque lugging a moderate 179kg, presumably when the bike's bone dry and doesn't have a middle-aged wimp on board. Peer a bit closer and you'll spot Brembos and the world's only unattractive Akrapovic setup. At least it sounds okay.
I don't know about you, but I reckon it's a great-looking bike - especially when fitted with extra-cost carbon fibre bling. It attracted plenty of attention among my peers, that's for sure.
And how was it to ride? Interesting...
It really is damn tall. I'm a smidge under 6 foot in the old money, and stationary on level ground I was almost on tiptoes. The controls are fairly standard, but you still get BMW's three switches for the indicators instead of one. The only reason for this is to piss off motorcycle journalists, I'm sure. An owner would get used to it in no time at all; it certainly didn't cause me any problems.
So, on the first ride, I fired up the bike and wobbled down the street. Wobbled? You see, my daily transport is a Suzuki GSX750F. It has a longish wheelbase, lazy steering and is stable as... well, a really stable thing. All of which are handy qualities in a sports tourer, but they didn't really prepare me for the Megamoto. I've no idea what its steering is like compared with something like an R6, but this has to be a nimble motorcycle by anyone's standards.
Heading up the hill out of the town, I crack open the throttle. You beauty! The bike responds instantly with a surge forward and a nice burble from the Akrapovic. We leap up the hill, round the first corner and straight onto the arse-end of a milk tanker. Double white lines, too. Fucken!
My patience frays after we crawl round two more corners. No oncoming traffic, so bugger the double lines. A fistful of throttle and we're out of there. Briskly. And into the next set of bumpy, gnarly bends.
A short digression. Doublethink, according to George Orwell in 1984, is the ability to hold two completely contradictory beliefs simultaneously. As the Megamoto and I began to bond, I came to understand what old George meant.
First stream of thought:
This isn't really my kind of bike. The steering's twitchy and nervous. Tip the bike into a turn and unless the surface is mirror-smooth we're jiggling around rather than holding a constant line.
The seat's flat as a board, and I can't tell how far back it extends. Am I sliding off the back? I'm sitting on the seat but I'd rather be sitting in it. And the handgrips are poxy - way too thin. Give me something nice and fat I can get a proper grip of.
Doing a U-turn's tricky because the bike's so tall. Does it come with its own stepladder? It should. No, I wouldn't want one of these at all.
Second stream of thought:
Woo-hoo, this thing fucken rocks! What a great engine! Stonking torque everywhere, and the bike feels so light and nimble. It's as though it's got no inertia at all - twist the wrist and you're away, no matter what gear you're in. Back off, and there's a great little burble on the over-run that makes you grin every time you hear it. More than anything I've ridden, it makes speed irrelevant - just numbers on a dial. Pick a number and you're there, pronto.
It's just so engaging. The noise, the vibes (good ones), the windblast. Maybe fairings are for poofters after all. And 190 unfaired klicks is a great way to clear out the sinuses. Allegedly.
Everything about the bike is so precise - the throttle, the steering, and especially the brakes. They're real hand-of-God stoppers, and give you exactly the retardation you request. No more, no less. Brilliant.
Get past the crappy bitumen and onto the ultra-smooth bends a bit further down the road. This bike may be tall, but it could lean forever. It's like sitting on a barstool and tipping it waaaaaaaay over onto two legs, but knowing it'll never drop you on your ear. No matter how far you go Sure the steering's responsive, but tell it what you want it to do and it'll give you exactly what you ask for.
Where's the nearest go-kart track, I want to play. Hell, it'd be an absolute weapon at a track day. And imagine it off-road, it'd be insane!
I'd have one of these, no doubt at all. Even on a short ride, you realise the Megamoto's got real depth to it. You'd love getting to know this bike over time. Discovering how to set the suspension up just right. Savouring that over-run. Surfing the torque. And looking at it sitting in your garage, because the Megamoto's a class act, with plenty of fine detail to savour.
Ride over, and I'm still grinning. This is an expensive motorcycle, and I don't honestly know if it's value for money. I can't tell you if it accelerates as fast as a litre sportsbike or a Hayabusa. By any sane standard it's wickedly accelerative. And is there really a market for huge flat-twin motards?
Dunno. But it's an intensely involving experience, that's for sure. If you don't get goosebumps riding this bike, you're probably dead.
